C38r 


Chase 
Notes  in  Rhyme 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

PAUL  TURNER,  U.S.M.C.R. 

KILLED  IN  ACTION,  SAIPAN 

JUNE,  1944 


IN 


RHYME. 


IN 


RHYM 


BY 


WHITMAN    CHASE, 


N.  DIGHTON,  MASS. 


BOSTON: 

ROBINSON   AND   HULL,    PUBLISHERS 


INDEX. 

PAGE. 

THE  NATION'S  DEAD,  -       5 

TAUNTON  GREAT  RIVER,      -  7 

MEMORY,  -       9 

i 

BRUNO'S  EPITAPH,  10 

CHILD'S  PRAYER,      -  -     10 

TRAMP,  1 1 

EDEN,      -  -     12 

BACHELOR,    -  14 

To  SENATOR  B,       -                                            -   .     -  14 

ANSWER  TO  A  FRIENDLY  CRITIC,  15 

THE  GAME  OF  THE  MONEY  SHARK,  -     16 

FEMALE  SUFFRAGE,       -  20 

BEAUTIFUL  VIEW,    -                 -  ,      -  -    21 

DECORATION  DAY,  22 

AN  ALLEGORY,  -     23 

NIGHT,  23 

WAITING,  -     26 

REGRETS,      -  27 

YE  WHISPERING  WINDS,  -    28 

MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME,     -  29 

SPRING  POETRY,       -  -     29 

BEE  HIVE,    -  30 

DOGSOLOGY,      -  -    31 

- 

FOURTH  OF  JULY,  1876.  32 


691768 


THE  NATION'S  DEAD. 

See  yon  hillside  dotted  o'er, 
Graves  of  soldiers  —  nothing  more. 

Soldiers,  silently  they  lie, 
For  their  country  dared  to  die. 

Left  their  homes  and  firesides  dear, 
Changed  them  for  a  patriots  bier. 

Poured  their  blood  upon  the  sands, 
Took  their  death  at  rebel  hands. 

A  hundred  thousand  four  times  told, 
Dearer  than  the  miser's  gold ; 

Husband,  father,  brother,  son, 

Left  their  loved  ones,  long  to  mourn: 

Lover's  left  their  darling's  side, 
And  instead  made  death  their  bride. 

In  the  churchyard,  in  the  glen, 
Never  rested  braver  men. 

Died  they  on  the  battle-field, 
Nor  to  traitors  would  they  yield ; 

Died  they  in  the  prison  pen, 

Shame  !  Oh,  Shame  ye  Southern  men. 

In  the  swamp  and  on  the  plain, 
In  the  camp  on  cots  of  pain. 

Died  returning  to  their  friends, 
Lightning  home  the  message  sends. 


6 


On  the  land  and  on  the  sea, 

They  died  for  you,  they  died  for  me. 

Let  us  weave  them  garlands  green, 
Deck  their  graves  with  brightest  sheen. 

Twine  our  love  among  the  flowers, 
For  the  life  they  gave  for  ours. 

I  have  watched  them  by  the  hour, 
Fighting  midst  the  leaden  shower, 

Bursting  shell  and  cannon  ball ; 
Seen  them  waver  —  seen  them  fall. 

Now  we  see  the  "  Nations  dead" 
Make  the  earth  their  common  bed. 

Four  hundred  thousand,  brave  and  true, 
Claim  the  Nation's  homage  due. 

Buried  on  the  crested  hill ; 
Buried  in  the  quiet  vale. 

Buried  in  the  churchyard  lot ; 
Buried  in  some  lonely  spot. 

Buried  'neath  the  surging  wave, 
Ne'er  a  stone  to  mark  their  grave. 

In  the  rivers  rolling  tide, 
Buried  comrads  side  by  side. 

In  our  hearts  lie  buried  then, 
Deeds  of  God's  appointed  men. 


TAUNTON  GREAT  RIVER. 


The  Taunton  Great  River  is  a  beautiful  stream, 

The  pride  of  Dame  Nature,  fulfilling  her  dream  ; 

The  pains  of  its  birth  she  will  never  forget, 

While  fondly  she  gazes  on  the  fame  of  her  pet ;  ^ 

'Tis  carved  through  the  meadows,  the  rocks  and  the  hills, 

O  ' 

Entrancing  its  beauty  from  ocean  to  rills  ; 

Its  banks  are  historic,  no  spot  on  its  shores 

But  for  pen  or  for  pencil  yields  richest  of  stores. 

From  the  Blue   Hills,  'tis  claimed,  on  its  inission  it  springs, 

Till  it  blends  with  old  Ocean,  its  memory  clings 

To  the  scenes  of  its  childhood,  and  who  shall  dare 

To  assert  that  its  spirit  does  not  live  even  there. 

In  ages  long  past,  in  times  that  are  flown, 

When  this  true  child  of  Nature  to  a  damsel  had  grown, 

There  came  from  the  East  a  mythical  band, 

With  dignified  grace  to  ask  for  her  hand, 

In  language  as  pure,  as  classic,  unstained, 

As  tho'  the  Tower  of  Babel  still  reigned, 

O  • 

They  inscribed  on  a  rock,  enduring  as  fame, 

A  neat  billet-doux,  sweet  proof  of  their  flame. 

'Twas  love  at  first-sight,  and  love  always  true, 

Inspired  this  gallant,  this  wandering  crew. 

They  walked  in  the  moonlight,  and  gazed  at  the  stars, 

Nor  clouded  their  prospect  with  family  jars ; 

No  envious  rival  to  poison  the  gale 

With  darkening  hints,  or  gossiping  tale  ; 

In  the  midst  of  the  forest,  on  the  banks  of  the  stream, 

They  trusted  each  other,  their  life  was  a  dream.  — 

They  sailed  on  the  waters  till  the  Nook  they  had  passed, 


8 


And  on  to  the  Needles  where  the  current  runs  fast ; 
Still  on  to  the  Pond  Rocks  and  up  to  the  Weir  ; 
Again  on  to  Titticut  —  could  they  wish  to  go  higher  ? 
And  slowly  returning,  drifting  down  with  the  tide  ; 
The  bargain  was  made  —  she  would  be  his  bride. 
When  her  lover  returned  from  the  East  once  again, 
She  would  wait  with  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
Near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  love  oft  is  sealed, 
They  lingered  a  season,  and  their  purpose  revealed, 
There  builded  a  monument  just  like  their  love, 
Firmly  established  below,  and  strengthened  above  ; 
Then  weighed  they  the  anchor  and  sailed  on  the  main, 
Ask  the  Ocean,  why  comes  not  my  Birdie  again. 
Oh  !  pity  the  maiden  with  hopes  crushed  and  lost ; 
A  derelict  bark  on  the  wide  ocean  tossed. 

While   she   sighed  for  her  lover  and  what  "  might  have 

been," 

There  came  to  her  borders  a  race  of  red  men, 
With  wild  hieroglyphics,  and  feathers,  and  paint ; 
With  scalping-knife,  tomahawk,  equally  quaint ;  . 
With  birchen  canoe,  and  wigwam,  and  Squaw, 
And  pappoose  thrown  in,  in  a  corner  of  straw. 
While  the  moon  and  the  stars  shine  with  lustre  refulgent, 
And  hope  long  deferred  makes  a  maiden  indulgent, 
They  might  fish  in  her  waters,  and  fondle  her  charms  ; 
Ugh  !  an  Indian  she  never  would  take  to  her  arms. 
Then  came  the  Yankees  a  badly  mixed  race, 
With  notions  puritanic — extremely  strait-laced  — 
Vast  lovers  of  freedom,  for  themselves  and  their  own, 
While  for  others  their  hearts  are  as  hard  as  a  stone. 
Much  shrewder  than  an  Indian,  we  charitably  say, 
They  bought  up  the  land,  and  what  did  they  pay  ? 
A  whole  peck  of  beans,  a  yankee's  first  lave, 
Dearer  by  far,  than  mansions  above. 
Then  build  up  a  monument,  laud  to  the  skies 
This  shrewdest  of  buyers,  give  her  the  prize 


9 

She  has  earned,  we'll  emulate  all ; 

The  skill  of  the  trader,  for  prices  may  fall !  — 

They  erected  fine  churches,  that  their  sins,  be  forgiven, 

And  their  souls,  if  they  have  any,  at  last  go  to  heaven  — 

Established  free  schools  —  political  machines  — 

Where  the  boys  and  the  girls,  study  means  and  extremes ; 

As  wise  at  the  end  as  at  the  beginning. 

Like  very  fine  houses  without  underpinning  — 

Castles  of  air  blown  about  by  the  breeze  ! 

Fluttering  fashion  birds  singing  among  the  trees  ! 

Now  her  children  are  many,  some  to  cities  have  grown, 

And  they  scornfully  look  on  the  mean  little  town  ; 

One,  a  spindle-shanked  fellow,  lives  on  a  hill, 

His  family  is  large,  he  married  a  Miln  ; 

May  they  live  long,  and  prosper  in  basket  and  store, 

But  remember  'tis  better  to  be  honest  —  than  poor; 

By  the  side  of  the  sea,  a  fair  daughter  dwells, 

She  flirts  with  the  ocean,  and  favors  its  swells  — 

In  that  sweet  land  of  rest,  where  no  marriage  is  given, 

There  is  hope  for  the  maiden  whose  heart  strings  are  riven, 

When  the  summons  shall  come,  "  from  earth  to  depart," 

She  may  join  with  the  spirit  of  the  deep  sunken  bark. 


MEMORY. 

I  call  to  mind  my  childhood's  dream, 
And  sail  with  mem'ry  up  the  stream  ; 
This  point  I  reach  — •  can  get  no  higher  — 
When  mamma  held  me  to  the  fire. 


My  feet  were  Avarmed,  the  grateful  blaze 
Still  in  my  worn  out  memory  plays. 


10 


BRUNO'S  EPITAPH. 

Bruno,  a  clog,  lies  buried  here, 

Let  other  canines  drop  a  tear, 

And  while  they  weep  this  thought  apply, 

That  Bruno  could  not  tell  a  lie. 

He  lies,  'tis  true,  beneath  the  ground, 
But  not  in  court,  where  rogues  are  found, 
He'd  scorn  to  have  his  memory  dyed 
With  documents  that  proved  he'd  lied. 

Was  never  known  to  sign  his  name 
To  scrolls  that  testified  his  shame, 
Nor  held  an  office  in  a  town 
Where  truth  and  virtue  are  put  down. 

Unlike  the  brutes  who  planned  his  death, 
He  never  used  his  given  breath 
To  tell  false  tales,  and  mock  the  Giver 
With  deeds  that  bring  disgrace  forever. 

Duplicity  was  not  his  trade, 
No  subtle  cunning  part  he  played  ; 
Beside  his  grave,  where  heath  moss  grows, 
'We'll  plant  a  blooming  single  rose. 


THE  CHILD'S  PRAYER. 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep  " 
Upon  this  bed,  a  treasure  heap, 
My  mother's  hands  with  love  hath  made, 
And  in  its  folds  her  child  is  laid. 


11 


"  I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep  " 
In  watchful  kindness  while  I  sleep ; 
And  guide  me  ever  in  the  right, 

O  O          ' 

By  brightest  day,  or  darkest  night. 

"  And  if  I  die  before  I  wake  "  — 
My  spirit  shall  this  form  forsake, 
And  sail  the  stormy  river  o'er, 
To  wait  my  mother  on  the  shore. 

"  I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take," 
And  keep  it  for  that  mother's  sake, 
That  when  her  task  on  earth  is  done, 
May  find  her  loved  —  her  missing  one. 


THE  TRAMP. 

"  Pity  the  sorrows  of  the  poor  old  tramp," 

For  the  north  wind  comes  with  cutting  breath, 

Oh  pitiless  North  ! 
I  fought  for  the  North  to  save  it  from  death. 

The  breeze  from  the  South  is  warm  and  kind, 
But  the  noisome  pestilence  is  in  its  breath, 

Oh  mistaken  South ! 
.     I  fought  'gainst  the  South  to  save  all  from  death. 

Now  where  shall  I  flee  from  the  laws  persecution, 
"  The  poor  ye  shall  always  have  with  you,"  He  saith, 

But  Christ  is  forgot ! 
And  nothing  is  left  to  me  but  death. 


12 


EDEN. 

One  day  as  the  sun  was  seeking 

His  beautiful  home  in  the  West, 
And  was  saving  "  good  night "  unto  Eden, 

Fair  Eden  the  home,  of  the  blest. 

"  Thou  art  beauty's  bower  enchanted," 
"  The  loveliest  spot  on  the  earth  ;  " 

"  For  thee  my  dreams  are  haunted  ;  " 
"Thank  heaven  for  giving  thee  birth." 

"  I'll  call  again  in  the  morning  " 
"  And  kiss  off  thy  tears  of  dew ;  " 

"  May  guardian  angels  watch  o'er  thee," 
"  When  I'm  absent,  dear  Eden,  from  you." 

While  the  shadows  of  sadness  were  lengthning 
At  this  parting  so  kindly  and  true, 

Stood  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  Garden, 
Admiring  their  bridal  trosseaux. 

The  trees  and  the  flowers  they  inspected, 

Naming  each  one  after  its  kind  ; 
And  the  rich,  ripe  fruit  they  tasted, 

As  their  habits  and  thoughts  were  inclined, 

"  See  !  there  is  a  tree,  dear  Adam," 
"  With  fruit  and  flowers  so  gay," 

And  merrily  they  chatted  together, 
As  she  cunningly  led  him  that  way. 

She  pretended  the  greatest  surprise 
At  the  beautiful  fruit  that  it  bore, 


13 


Nor  shoAved  by  a  word  or  a  look 
That  she  ever  had  tasted  before. 

Oh  woman  !  guileless,  woman  ! 

Is  thy  mission  on  earth  to  deceive  ? 
Then  a  blessing  'twould  have  been  for  mankind 

If  there  never  had  been  any  Eve. 

The  sun  on  his  journey  had  gone, 
And  darkness  spread,  o'er  the  earth  ; 

The  curtain  of  Nature  was  drawn 
Ere  sin  and  transgression  had  birth. 

The  table  of  evening  was  spread 
With  dainties  the  choicest  and  rare, 

The  best  the  Garden  afforded, 

The  fruit  "  forbidden  "  Avas  there. 

Together  they  partook  of  the  banquet, 
So  happy  and  thoughtless  this  pair, 

Ere  the  sun  appeared  in  the  moring 

This  world  had  been  burdened  with  care. 

Though  justice  demandeth  a  penance, 

And  guardeth  humanity's  claim, 
No  mortal  could  censure  this  couple, 

Or  consider  them  any  to  blame  ; 

For  where  is  the  man  or  the  woman 

Who  would  not  have  done  just  the  same, 

Though  it  cost  a  forest  of  fig  leaves 
To  hide  their  feelings  of  shame. 


14 


A  BACHELOR. 

Who  cares  for  his  troubles  and  woes  ? 

Who  keeps,  as  a  treasure,  his  heart  ? 
Who  loves  him  and  serves  him  and  says  she'll  obey 

When  all  other  friends  depart  ? 

Then  why  is  he  a  bachelor  so  lonely  we  ask  ? 

Why  don't  he  get  married  in  a  jiff? 
When  in  the  sunshine  of  love  he  might  bask, 

And  never  grow  aged  with  grief. 

Oh,  say,  has  some  bright  little  damsel 

Just  stolen  his  heart  out  of  fun, 
And  refused  altogether  to  cancel 

The  roguery,  by  giving  her  own  in  return  ? 

Or  is  he  the  hardened  offender, 

And  has  passed  his  life  in  its  prime 
In  stealing  these  pulsating  treasures 

And  now  suffers,  as  he  should,  for  his  crime  ? 

But  a  bachelor  no  longer  we'll  pity, 

For  recorded  his  vows  may  now  be, 
He  has  only  to  put  out  his  money, 

And  a  phonograph  buy  don't  you  see. 


TO  SENATOR  — « — 

We  fain  would  save  thy  dainty  soul 
From  contact  with  the  poor  or  foul, 
Who  to  the  earth  have  long  been  trod 
By  minions  of  thy  worshipped  god. 


15 


Great  Champion  of  the  oppressor,  Gold, 
Thou  canst  not  drive  us  in  thy  fold  ; 
We  hear  thy  whip  lash  crack  and  snap, 
And  reach  it  may  our  coatless  back. 

We'll  brave  the  storm  and  stand  for  right, 
Tho'  millions  perish  in  the  fight, 
We  can  but  die,  and  die  we  must, 
If  such  as  thee  we  wholly  trust. 

The  poor  must  starve  and  suffer  cold 
To  gratify  the  greed  for  gold  ; 
Then  bind  them  down  with  iron  bands, 
The  price  of  Judas  in  thy  hands. 

Preach  thou  thy  democratic  Cant, 
Of  Massachusetts  "  mudsills  "  rant ; 
Sleep  sweetly  in  thy  chosen  bed ; 
The  voice  for  freedom  is  not  dead. 


ANSWER  TO  A  FRIENDLY  CRITIC. 

I  thank  you  for  your  kind  advice  ;  — 

It  flatters  much  —  too  much,  my  cheap  device.  — 

To  train  my  Muse,  I  first  must  gently  woo  her  ; 

And  ere  I  let  my  rhyming  fancy  soar 

To  giddy  heights,  where  many  dangers  thrall, 

Where  one  false  step  may  wreck  and  ruin  all ; 

To  theme  of  Love,  the  highest  peak  yet  found 

By  rhyming  bard,  or  realistic  hound  ; 

I  sure  must  legalize  the  bond, 

And  know  she's  mine,  e'en  to  the  far  bevond. 


16 


THE  GAME  OF  THE  MONEY  STOCK. 


Ye  Muses,  who  by  Jove  appointed 
Guardians  of  the  thoughts  of  men, 

Make  me  one  of  thine  anointed, 
Nerve  my  heart  and  guide  my  pen. 

Free  me  from  all  selfish  malice, 
Lead  me  only  in  the  right  ; 

Better  drink  from  poisoned  chalice 
Than  indulge  in  canine  fight. 

Let  no  word  or  thought  be  spoken, 
Comes  not  from  the  highest  realm, 

That  thy  mandates  be  not  broken, 
Place  the  wisest  at  the  helm. 

When  a  nation  stoops  to  meanness, 
Courting  all  her  poisonous  plans  ; 

Sanctioned,  though  by  men  of  genius, 
Just  men  should  forbid  the  bans. 

They  who  stand  upon  the  mountain 
Looking  on  the  plain  below, 

Drinking  from  the  Heavenly  fountain, 
Lot  of  theirs  to  see  and  know. 

See  the  nation  lowly  bending 
Worshipping  the  Golden  Calf; 

Men  the  Nation's  cause  defending, 
Objects  of  derision's  laugh. 

Hark  !  we  hear  the  sound  of  battle  ! 

Hush  !  the  war  is  in  the  camp  ! 
Nearer  sounds  the  death-like  rattle  ; 

Liberty  must  fight,  or  tramp. 


17 


Gay  their  trappings,  bright  their  armor, 

Martial  music  fills  the  air ; 
Merchant,  lawyer,  preacher,  farmer, 

Men  of  mein  and  visage  fair. 

Men  whose  hopes  were  like  the  mountain, 
Men  whose  hearts  beat  high  and  warm, 

Neither  cost  nor  trouble  counting ; 
Rush  to  save  their  rights  from  harm.  . 

God's  best  image  only  choosing, 
Crooked  toes  must  stay  at  home  ; 

Hearts  and  lungs  misplaced  excusing  ; 
War  of  theirs  with  words  and  broom. 

Now  they're  marching  to  the  landing, 
Crowded  steamer  leaves  the  shore  ; 

Deafening  cheers  their  echoes  answering, 
Hats  and  kerchiefs  answering  more. 

Passion  now  brings  up  her  forces, 
Licensed  each  their  part  to  play  ; 

That  they  better  run  their  courses, 
Prudence  bounds  are  knocked  away. 

Fear  goes  with  the  weeping  mother, 

Haunts  her  thoughts  by  day  and  night ; 

Hope  goes  racing  with  her  brother, 
Neck  and  neck  with  all  their  might. 

Love  !  oh  ever  changing  goddess, 
Now  on  steamer,  now  on  shore, 

Deacons  whisper  words*  of  kindness, 
Youthful  pastors  whisper  more. 

Distance  leaves  the  heart  to  harden, 
Makes  the  bond  of  union  li<2;lit ; 


18 


Wives  were  playing  Enoch  Arden, 
Ere  the  steamer's  out  of  sight. 

Shylocks  now  deep  plans  are  laying, 

To  secure  their  pound  of  flesh  ! 
Sordid  meanness  well  portraying, 

Lack  of  soul  and  love  of  cash. 

• 
Now  the  changing  paper  dollar, 

"  Honest  bankers,"  bring  to  front  — 
Turn  it  over,  hear  it  "holler ;  " 

Now  you  see  it,  now  you  don't. 

Olden  times  when  Cape  Cod  lasses 
Rolling  down  the  sandy  height, 

Showed  their  faces  then  their  tresses 
Like  a  coast  revolving  light. 

Had  they  then  the  slighest  notion 
That  their  play  would  copied  be, 

They'd  have  rolled  into  the  ocean  ; 
Hid  their  blushes  in  the  sea. 

Rags  that  once  disgraced  a  pauper, 
Take  the  highest  walks  in  life ; 

Shoddy  marries  Mr.  Sharper, 
All  ignore  the  Soldier's  Wife. 

See,  her  home  is  sad  and  dreary, 
Clouds  obscure  her  noonday  sun ; 

Eyes  that  weep  and  hearts  that  weary 
Waiting  for  the  absent  one. 

Scanty  grows  her  children's  clothing, 

Rent  increasing  every  day  — 
Tricks  that  merit  honor's  loathino-, 

O' 

Wear  her  lonely  life  away. 


19 


Letters  take  a  long  vacation, 

Last  with  burning  words  of  love, 

'Reading  like  some  sad  oration 
Pointing  to  the  world  above. 

Home  returns  the  worn  out  soldier, 
Seeks  to  mend  his  broken  health  ; 

Friends  frave  grown  a  trifle  colder 
As  they  have  increased  in  wealth. 

Dreams  of  Camp  and  field  of  battle, 
Dreams  of  health  and  hope  and  friend ; 

Vanish  like  the  fawn  we  startle, 
When  we  hound  and  bullet  send. 

Wife  may  love,  and  children  fondle, 
Bread  is  still  the  loudest  cry ; 

Pension  agent  proves  a  scoundrel, 
Passes  the  worthy  soldier  by. 

Lying  cunning  politician 

Seeks  the  soldier's  fame  to  mar, 

Worse  than  wounds  or  rebel  prison  ; 
Saddest  fruitage  of  the  war. 

Hope  deferred  makes  human  hearts  sick, 
Hope  destroyed,  still  more  we  dread ; 

Tramp  they  went  to  martial  music, 
Tramp  returned  to  beg  their  bread. 

Now  we  reach  the  verge  of  madness, 
Despots  seek  to  play  their  game  ; 

They  will  wrap  the  world  in  sadness, 
Banish  every  human  claim. 


20 


WOMAN  SUFFRAGE. 

There  was  to  be  an  election  in  Forfest, 
When  'twas  lawful  for  women  to  vote, 

And  Mrs.  Tupper  was  running  for  office, 
A  lady  of  learning  and  note. 

She  desired  to  be  on  the  committee, 
And  have  the  care  of  the  schools  ; 

'Twas  considered  a  very  great  pity 

That  children  should  all  grow  up  fools. 

But  old  Dr.  Rawpot  was  boss, 

And  the  schools  were  down  below  Zero, 
For  no  one  had  dared  to  oppose 

This  political  medical  hero. 

He  had  threatened  to  give  them  such  pills, 
As  would  send  them  to  Heaven  so  quick  ; 

Besides  he  would  bring  in  such  bills 
They'd  wish  they  had  never  been  sick. 

But  the  lady  had  courage  undaunted, 
And  was  not  to  be  scared  by  an  owl, 

She  told  them  the  old  man  was  haunted 
By  the  spirit  of  murder  most  fowl. 

This  raised  up  a  breeze  in  a  minute, 
And  the  lady's  fair  name  was  assailed, 

While  all  his  relations  joined  in  it 
Till  it  increased  almost  to  a  gale. 

o 

But  election  day  settled  the  question  ; 

No  "  Eight  to  Seven  "  was  played ; 
The  selectwomen  counted  the  ballots, 

And  never  their  trusts  betrayed. 


,    21 

Mrs.  Moderator  called  them  to  order, 

When  she  declared  the  vote  almost  even ; 

The  doctor  stood  ninety-six  in  the  shade, 
While  the  lady  counted  just  ninety  seven. 

The  doctor  no  more  was  seen 

For  two  days  and  a  night,  so  they  tell ; 
Some  thought  he  had  crossed  the  stream, 

And  landed  —  on  Canaan's  bright  shore. 

The  people  turned  out  in  a  body, 

And  hunted  down  twixt  the  old  mills, 

Where  they  found  the  doctor's  cold  corpus, 
Beside  an  empty  box  of  his  own  pills. 


THE   "  BEAUTIFUL   VIEW." 

As  I  trace  out  the  course  and  distance  I've  run, 
While  over  life's  ocean  my  track  I  review. 

And  dream  of  the  port  whence  my  voyage  first  begun, 
And  sigh  for  the  heaven  that's  promised  to  few. 

As  I  linger  in  fancy  o'er  the  bright  seas  I've  passed, 
Of  the  refuge  I've  sought  when  passion's  storm  blew, 

One  surer  than  all,  in  my  memory  shall  last, 
The  harbor  that's  called  the  "  Beautiful  View." 

And  should  I  arrive  when  the  gates  are  ajar, 

With  the  Pilot  on  board  to  take  me  safe  through  ; 
Ere  I  enter,  and  while  I  am  crossing  the  bar, 

Will  look  far  astern  for  the  "  Beautiful  View." 

# 

And  even  in  port  while  collecting  my  freight, 
Which  the  consignee  pays  whenever  its  due  — 

No  minions  of  hades  to  filch  from  the  rate  — 
I  still  will  remember  the  "  Beautiful  View." 


22 


May  the  trim-looking  craft  as  they  lie  safely  moored 
In  that  harbor,  enclosed  by  hearts  that  are  true, 

Rejoice  in  the  love  which  they  each  have  on  board 
For  each  other,  and  for  the  "  Beautiful  View." 


DECORATION   DAY. 

March  on  —  bring  on  the  flowers  —  the  orders  pass 

From  West  to  East  —  from  South  to  North 
Let  none  refuse  —  in  column  and  in  solid  mass 

March  on,  and  roses  bring,  and  amaranth. 
The  old,  the  young,  the  good,  the  wise,. 

Do  homage  to  the  patriot  dead ; 
The  life  to  duty  sacrificed, 

Shall  never  from  our  mem'ry  fade. 

Then  early  rise  and  bring  the  flowers  ; 

No  sluggard  on  our  roll  shall  be  ; 
In  sacredness  we'll  spend  the  hours 

Allotted  to  the  task,  and  see 
This  duty  well  performed  ;  not  with  envy, 

But  writh  reverential  awe, 
And  with  joyful  sadness  ;  proud  are  we 

To  worship,  at  the  shrine  of  love  and  law. 

No  party  now,  this  is  a  common  cause, 
A  love  of  country,  and  regard  for  laws  ; 
A  traitor's  foe  these  heroes  fain  have  been  ; 
They  loved  their  country  and  they  died  like  men 
For  its  defence  ;  their  graves  we  decorate 
With  flowers  ;  their  honored  names  we  consecrate 
This  day.     We  loved  them  as  they  loved  the  right, 
And  ever  will  keep  their  memory  bright. 


23 


AN   ALEGORY. 

A  Drake  and  a  Fox  were  counsel  together, 

In  a  trial  of  chase  against  an  old  wether; 

From  a  Rockwell  to  start  and  they  lay  down  the  rule, 

That  who  wins  the  race  must  first  reach  the  goal. 

The  stakes  were  put  up  a  hundred  or  more, 
And  none  were  allowed  who  had  Bennet  before, 
The  race  it  was  long,  Fuller  a  mile  it  is  said 
The  tallest  to  win,  if  he  come  out  ahead. 

Now  to  turn  a  short  corner  on  a  wet  day 

Is  not  always  the  safest  part  of  a  play, 

When  you're  going  full  tilt,  appalled  you  may  be 

To  land  in  a  mud-hole,  or  up  'gainst  a  tree. 

The  racers  well  cautioned  they  start  at  the  word, 
Away  flew  the  wether  with  the  speed  of  a  bird, 
His  feet  slipped  from  under,  he  rolled  in  a  pool, 
They  all  cried  together  you're  tall  but  a  fool. 

Now  fill  up  your  glasses,  we'll  drink  to  the  winner, 
If  in  a  good  cause  you  e'er  lose  your  dinner, 
'Twill  all  be  made  up  at  the  end  of  the  race, 
If  the  Fox  and  the  Drake  may  judge  of  the  case. 


NIGHT. 

Night,  symbol  of  eternity  —  the  day  well  spent, 

Brings  happiness,  and  sweet  content ; 

The  day  of  toil  and  strife  is  o'er, 

As  homeward  then  his  steps  are  bent, 

The  wife  stands  watching  at  the  door, 


24 


On  faithful,  loving  thoughts  intent ; 
A  smile,  a  pleasant  word,  a  loving  kiss 
Mere  harbingers  of  coming  bliss. 

Then  children  coming  to  the  scene, 

With  gladdened  hearts  though  thoughtful  mien, 

"•  O  pa  has  come,"  with  joy  they  cry, 

When  clustering  round  the  weary  man, 

They  fondly  with  each  other  vie 

To  show  each  loving  heart  and  hand  ; 

"I  love  you  pa/'  and  here's  a  kiss  for  you, 

"  And  I  'ove  'ou,  dust  dive  me  one  tiss  too." 

The  table  spread  with  dainties  rare, 

The  snowy  cloth  —  the  cushioned  chair, 

"  O,  take  it  pa,  ma  placed  it  there  for  you," 

Unused  by  all  when  you  are  gone, 

'Tis  sacred  as  a  lover's  kiss, 

An  emblem  of  a  heart  forlorn, 

Whose  idol  only  it  can  miss  — 

We  love  to  linger  round  the  place, 

And  Avatch  each  bright  and  happy  face. 

The  husband-father's,  heart  o'erflows 
With  happiness,  no  words  disclose, 
His  eye  ;  a  tear  glistens  there  ; 
"  O  papa,  why,"  —  but  hush  ;  the  prayer : 
Oh  God  who  dwells  in  sea  and  air 
Whose  presence  blesseth  everywhere, 
We  thank  Thee  for  thy  tender  care, 
That  keeps  us  from  the  worldly  snare, 
And  when  our  task  on  earth  is  done 
Then  take  us  to  thy  happy  home 

In  Heaven  "  O  papa,"  then  I  heard  a  sound 
Of  rustling  wings  beyond  the  wall : 


25 


We  hear  the  echo  travelling  round 
O'er  hill  and  dale  encircling  all. 
It  seems  to  whisper  in  the  air, 
"  'Tis  written  on  the  rainbow  scroll 
When  man  has  done  his  duty  here, 
In  heaven  may  rest  his  weary  soul." 

Another  task  is  ours  that's  not  so  pleasant  quite, 

To  paint  a  home  in  colors  not  so  bright : 

A  man  of  common  mind,  with  health  and  strength, 

Stands  loafing  on  the  corner,  in  the  store ; 

And  wears  away  the  long,  long  day  at  length, 

In  bits  of  gossip,  wine,  and  cards,  or  more, 

He  seeks  his  home  when  night  doth  drive  him  there, 

Demanding  of  its  hospitality  a  share. 

No  wife  to  greet  him  at  the  door, 
No  cheerful  voice,  of  love  no  store ; 
'  Tis  dark  and  dismal,  drear  and  cold, 
And  hunger,  squalor,  filth  abound, 
The  misery,  suffering,  never  told 
The  embers  few,  with  children  round, 
And  shivering,  crouching,  scarcely  clad, 
Their  hearts  are  heavy,  faces  sad. 

From  father's  lips  a  muttered  curse 
"  Than  this  can  Hell  be  any  worse  ?  '* 
"•  O  father  hear  the  thunders  roar; 
The  storm  is  gathering  round  us  now, 
Each  crash  is  louder  than  before  — 
May  God  some  sign  of  pity  show." 
Not  Sinai's  mount,  nor  sabbath  bell 
Can  clearer  show,  or  plainer  tell, 
For  those  on  earth  who  do  all  well, 
There  need  not  be  a  fear  of  hell. 


26 


WAITING. 

I  met  my  friend  of  "  twenty-one  " 
And  joy  beamed  in  his  eye, 
He  said, 
"  I've  wed, 
A  pretty  maid, 
I  caught  her  on  the  fly, 
I'll  get  the  rocks 

Without  hard  knocks 
If  my  father-in-law  should  die." 

"  He  owns  a  railroad  and  a  farm, 
A  bank  and  grocery  store, 
And  ships  upon  the  ocean  too, 
The  Lord  knows  how  much  more ; 

We'll  life  enjoy 

Without  alloy 
This  happy  bride  and  I 

We'll  live  in  state" 

And  only  wait 
For  father-in-law  to  die  !  " 

My  friend  passed  on  and  time  also, 
Till  twenty  years  had  fled, 

Again  we  met, 

And  in  a  fret 
He  said  "  I'm  almost  dead  — 

I'm  sick  and  sore, 

And,  what  is  more, 
I've  neither  board  nor  bed ; 

But  then  you  see 

I'll  happy  be  ; 
I'll  tell  you  on  the  sly, 

We'll  live  in  clover 


27 

When  'tis  all  over 
And  the  old  man  comes  to  die." 

A  score  of  years  were  added  still 
As  time  went  rippling  by, 

And  haggard  then 

I  met  old  Ben, 
He'd  hardly  strength  to  sigh 

"  I'll  life  enjoy 

My  dear  old  boy 
When  the  old  man  comes  to  die." 


REGRETS. 

Oh  had  I  a  skin  like  the  shades  of  the  night, 
Or  even  as  dark  as  the  twilight's  first  dawning, 

I  might  claim  of  the  Government  a  pension  by  right 
Of  the  hue  of  my  hide  that  came  at  my  borning. 

I  might  fold  up  -my  wings,  and  in  transports  of  joy, 

Fly  to  Kansas  neath  the  shades  of  a  Government  awning, 

With  a  Government  ticket  my  cares  to  destroy, 
Pass  a  life  as  serene  as  June's  brightest  morning. 

I  might  pity  the  lot  of  the  down-trodden  whites, 

And  give  them  a  penny  to  keep  them  from  starving, 

Have  Government  support  in  all  of  my  fights, 
And  live  on  the  bounty  of  political  carving. 

But  alas  !  sad  misfortune,  my  parents  were  white, 
No  Government  patronage  came  at  my  borning  ; 

My  journey  through  life  is  hardly  as  bright 

As  the  stormiest,  coldest,  windiest  March  morning. 


28 


Bulldozed  by  officials,  abused  by  a  crowd 

Of  gaping  jackanapes,  adepts  at  their  fawning, 

Myself  and  my  progeny  can  only  be  proud 
That  we  exist  in  spite  of  political  storming. 


YE  WHISPERING  WINDS. 

Ye  whispering  winds  be  still 
And  tell  no  tales  of  love, 

No  secrets  e'er  reveal, 

Nor  scandal  bearer  prove. 

I  love  my  love  'tis  true, 
And  give  her  sigh  for  sigh, 

Ye  zephyrs  bear  them  through 
To  portals  in  the  sky. 

No  earthly  ears  intrust 
Nor  sighing  winds  disclose 

The  minglings  of  our  dust, 
Nor  tell  to  friends  or  foes. 

Ye  gales  that  sweep  the  main, 
And  speed  our  gallant  craft, 

Tell  not  the  sweet  refrain, 
But  onward  let  it  waft. 

Strong  as  the  hurricane, 
As  gentle  as  the  calm,      • 

I  still  the  love  retain 

For  "  Mary's  little  lamb." 


29 
SPRING   POETRY. 

As  I  went  to  the  spring  for  a  drink  of  pure  water, 

There  met  Capt.  Springer's  loveliest  daughter. 

"  Spring  over  the  wall  and  kiss  me  "  she  said  — 

"  In  the  spring  when  the  roses  are  in  bloom,  we  will  wed.'" 


MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 

'Twas  an  old-fashioned  farm  house   that  for  more  than  a 

century, 

Had  stood  by  the  roadside,  well  known  for  its  gallantry ; 
It  welcomed  alike  'the  rich  and  the  poor, 
No  beggar  empty-handed  e'er  turned  from  its  door. 
Here   the   scenes   of  rny  childhood,  like  birds  of  the  wild- 
wood 

Returning  in  spring,  come  back  unto  me  ; 
Here  in  pathways  of  truth,  in  my  joyous  bright  youth, 

My  life's  first  edition  was  "jolliest  glee." 

My  world  was  the  door-yard,  the  orchard,  the  lawn, 
And  I  rose  with  the  lark  in  the  bright  early  morn  ; 
Not  Adam  or  Eve,  in  their  innocent  joy, 
Knew  ought  of  the  pleasure  of  being  a  boy. 
To  school  then  I  went,  on  learning  was  bent, 

And  in  time  was  promoted  to  the  high  Grammar  School, 
But  the  Town  got  in  a  ferment,  and  in  its  excitement 

Acted  less  like  a  wise  man,  and  more  like  a  fool. 

Each  was  determined  to  rule  over  the  other, 
And  man  was  arrayed  even  against  his  own  brother ; 
The  tide  of  the  contest  swayed  now  to  and  fro, 
Uncertain  which  side  would  give  the  last  blow. 
But  Doctor  Obstetric,  the  boss  of  the  district, 
Now  led  out  his  forces  and  threatened  to  fire. 


30 


So  strong  did  he  charge  it,  with  threats  to  enlarge  it, 
That  he  knocked  opposition  than  a  kite  never  higher. 

To  the  High  Grammar  School  no  more  could  I  go, 
For  the  victorious  party  come  down  on  its  foe 
Like  a  hawk  on  a  chicken,  and  sent  down  helow 
Every  son  of  its  sire,  who  had  dared  to  vote  "  No." 
Oh  wise  legislation,  that  yields  to  dictation, 

And  places  the  power  in  the  hands  of  a  few ; 
Oh  perveted  humanity,  devoid  of  charity, 

E'en  keeps  from  his  neighbor  what  is  his  just  due. 


BEE  HIVE. 

On  the  sunny  side  of  a  garden  wall, 

Where  the  flowers  grow  wild  and  the  flowers  grow  tall, 

There  an  unpretending  bee  hive  stood, 

Filled  to  the  brim  with  its  busy  brood  ; 

The  bees  came  out  and  the  bees  went  in, 

And  their  toilsome  lives  were  free  from  sin. 

Their  love  for  their  Queen  was  the  purer  part  — 
Not  that  inspired  by  Cupid's  dart ; 
The  climax  of  love  only  their  thoughts  could  share, 
And  they  gazed  with  delight  as  she  soared  in  the  air ; 
While  the  drones  came  out  on  their  mission  of  love 
To  enjoy  its  fruition  in  the  heavens  above. 

One  night  when  the  stars  were  lit  in  the  sky 
A  silver  winged  Miller  came  buzzing  by  — 
Methinks  he  came  from  Albion's  shore, 
A  minion  of  Mothschild;  bought  by  their  ore, 
The  drones  allowed  the  Termer  in  : 
Their  home  became  the  abode  of  sin. 


31 


Then  thus  the  soft  voiced  syren  spake, 

"  Too  soft  and  too  thin  is  the  honey  you  make  ; 

Just  store  your  cells  and  fill  up  the  cracks 

With  wax,  hard  wax,  pure  golden  wax ; 

While  I  remain  my  web  to  spin, 

Bring  only  the  waxen  pollen  in." 

When  the  farmer  came  to  collect  his  rent, 

He  gathered  instead,  astonishment ; 

The  hive  was  filled  with  disgusting  worms, 

Full  of  their  tricks,  and  full  of  their  squirms ; 

No  bees  came  out,  no  bees  went  in  : 

Their  home  was  now  the  abode  of  sin. 

When  next  you  believe  that  right  must  prevail, 

Remember  your  vigilance  must  not  fail ; 

Beware  of  humbug,  delusion  and  snare, 

And  of  political  Millers,  beware,  twice  beware  ; 

For  their  schemes  will  hatch  and  their  progeny  stand 

Like  the  toads  of  Egypt,  to  devour  the  land. 


DOGSOLOGY. 

The  high,  the  low,  each  have  a  common  end  ; 
To  serve  his  master  every  one  must  bend  — 
My  wants  my  master  is,  food,  raiment,  home  ; 
With  these  supplied  my  work  is  done, 
I  have  no  higher  aim  —  man  I  despise  — 
Tho'  thoughts  may  wander  far  above  the  skies. 


32 


FOURTH  OF  JULY,  1876. 

The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day  — 
The  sighs  and  sorrows,  groans  and  tears 

We'll  banish  far  away. 

Tho'  fire  bugs  light  their  midnight  torch, 

And  Babcock  steals  away, 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 

Though  selfish  Enojand  never  will 

~  O 

The  golden  rule  obey, 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 
We  celebrate  to-day. 

Tho'  Hell  Gate  pilots  rob  us  quite, 

And  pious  scoundrels  prey, 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 

We  have  a  land  where  freedom  reigns, 

Tho'  justice  long  delay  — 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 

The  North  and  South  are  shaking  hands, 

Forgetting  all  the  fray, 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 

Then  ring  the  bells  and  fire  the  guns 

And  bunting  flags  display  ; 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 

And  France  may  come,  and  England  too, 

And  nations  far  away  ; 
The  glories  of  a  hundred  years 

We  celebrate  to-day. 


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